


Wildest Dreams

by allisonsargent



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Real Madrid CF, kind of short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisonsargent/pseuds/allisonsargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t even remember how they had gotten like this, tangled up together in the one-stall bathroom of a banquet hall, Sergio being pressed up against the stall door by his captain, of all people.</p><p>This wasn’t unusual or foreign in any way to Sergio. The defender had always held an admiration for Iker, and in more ways than one, Sergio looked up to the older Spaniard; love? No, Sergio never thought of it as love, rather, he filed it under boyhood crushes.</p><p>But as the two aged, Sergio’s young, exuberant boyhood faded, and he developed into an adult – yet, his childish ways didn’t completely disappear. He realized that it wasn’t just a crush, it was much much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my drafts for awhile, and it's kind of short, but I don't know, I worked hard on it? I hope it's okay, and I love kudos and comments! :D

“No one has to know what we do.” the words pass the Spaniard’s lips in a sultry whisper, the stinging words of truth lingering against the soft skin of the defender who was plastered to his chest.

His hands weren’t gentle as they roamed around Sergio’s body, but eventually found their way to the defender’s hair. Iker raked his fingers through Sergio’s hair, that had been styled with a bit of gel – considering that fact that Iker had fussed with Sergio’s hair, it now didn’t look presentable.

He couldn’t even remember how they had gotten like this, tangled up together in the one-stall bathroom of a banquet hall, Sergio being pressed up against the stall door by his captain, of all people.

This wasn’t unusual or foreign in any way to Sergio. The defender had always held an admiration for Iker, and in more ways than one, Sergio looked up to the older Spaniard; love? No, Sergio never thought of it as love, rather, he filed it under boyhood crushes.

But as the two aged, Sergio’s young, exuberant boyhood faded, and he developed into an adult – yet, his childish ways didn’t completely disappear. He realized that it wasn’t just a crush, it was much much more. 

But Iker had a girlfriend – and a kid, oh God, he had a baby – and so Sergio dismissed his thoughts of ever having a chance with Iker.

Until last year.

What had happened between Iker and Sergio that one Saturday night could have been described as a mistake to most, but to Sergio, he considered it to be up there with the best nights of his life. Sergio hadn’t meant to kiss Iker — he really hadn’t. But, with all the pent up frustration, Sergio’s mind was clouded — so, when his hands gently brushed against Iker’s stubble, and his lips collided with Iker’s, he didn’t think much about it.

But when they broke apart, apologies flooded from Sergio’s mouth and oh man, he knew he most likely just fucked up the best friendship to ever happen to him.

What Sergio didn’t expect was for Iker to pin Sergio against the wall, and kiss him harder than the Spaniard had ever been kissed.

Ever since then, these little rendezvous started to happen frequently. Sometimes in the locker room after everyone filed out, or Iker would head over to Sergio’s apartment after practice — or maybe they were like this, sneaking kisses as the two snuck away from the parties hosted by the club that payed their bills and gave them jobs.

“I love you, I really do.” the words flooded out of Iker’s mouth, as his lips were pressed against Sergio’s collarbone. The words didn’t affect Sergio, though — Iker had said that about a dozen times, but Sergio never felt the love as Iker proclaimed it.

All Sergio felt like was someone Iker used when he needed someone, when Sara was upset with him, or was away on business. Sergio was there when Iker needed to let out his pent up frustration, or when he just needed someone in general.. But, no matter how much it hurt, Sergio kept coming back, because he couldn’t bear to turn his back on his captain. He’d gotten so far since being a young, wide eyed kid from Sevilla, fortunate enough to train with the Real Madrid first team, but unfortunate enough to develop a crush on the captain. He couldn't just end it, since this was all he'd truly wanted for so long. 

“We should just.. Go away for a little bit, you know? Away from the crowds..” said Iker, stepping back a bit, leaning up against the pristine white bathroom stalls, instead of leaning against Sergio’s body.

And as Sergio looked up into Iker’s eyes — this vehement look in the goalkeeper’s eyes, a look of passion that Sergio knew well — he knew that not even heaven could help him now.  
He was so far deep into this — whatever this was, really — that he knew he couldn’t back away.

This love would be his downfall, and bit by bit, Sergio knew that it would tear him apart. He could see the end of this as it began, and Sergio knew it would end in pure heartbreak, and he’d be alone and ashamed, again. That's all Sergio ever received from others; he gave them all he had, and they left him with nothing. He'd felt it with Fernando, and he'll feel it with Iker.

“That’d be nice..” Sergio sighs, his voice not awfully enthusiastic, as per usual, which set red flags off in Iker’s mind. 

Iker’s eyes widen slightly in concern, and he nudges Sergio’s cheek with his nose, “What’s wrong, nene?”  
But, Sergio doesn’t answer verbally. Instead he just leans forward, pressing a kiss to Iker’s lips softly, “Shh.. Just.. Promise me something, si?”

“Anything, nene, dígame.” 

“Just.. Don't forget this, okay?” Iker looked like he was about to protest, but Sergio just shushed him quietly, “Don't forget about this — you and me, I mean.” 

“I would never! I love you.” Iker seemed almost outraged at the thought, eyes widened in shock, as if what Sergio said was unthinkable, “Sergio, what's wrong —” 

“Hooooooola?” called a familiar voice, as said person bursted into the bathroom with no prior indication of anyone else coming in. The two hadn't heard footsteps, or even the door opening, all they heard was the sudden yell. 

“Celo'?” sighed Iker, peeking through the slim crack of the bathroom stall, confirming that the person was, in fact, his teammate Marcelo. 

“Capi? Is that you? Where are you?” Marcelo's words were slightly slurred, but his rambling hadn't reached the point of being considered unintelligible yet. As Sergio heard Marcelo's footsteps near towards their stall, he climbed onto the toilet, staying silent. 

“Yeah, I'm just, um, fixing my suit.” Iker was terrible at lying, that was truly nothing new, but Marcelo seemed a little too tipsy to know if his captain was lying or not — or at least that's what Iker and Sergio were hoping.

“Cristiano sent me to get you,” said Marcelo, “And Sese too! Where is Sese? Sergio, you in here? Seeeeergio? Capi, do you know where Sergio was?” 

“He told me he was going to the coat racks to get his jacket, he was cold, or something.” Iker hated lying to Marcelo, he really did, and Sergio knew by the pained expression on the goalkeeper's face. 

“Oh. Okay! Thank you Capi! Come back to the table soon, I miss talking to you.” And Marcelo didn't give Iker the few seconds he needed to reply, the Brazilian exited the bathroom almost as soon as he had entered. 

Iker let out a sigh of relief, but Sergio was beyond mad at the whole situation. He hated being Iker's little secret, truly hated being treated as a fun toy to be taken out when nobody else was around. He knew the situation was complicated, considering a marriage was at stake due to Iker and Sergio's reckless actions, but Sergio was sick of it. 

“I can't do this.” Sergio whispered, his face heating up at the thought of telling Iker no — he's not used to that, he might never be used to it. 

“W-What?” Iker looked wounded, his eyes wide, and complexion was kicked up a few shades, an odd sight comparing to Iker's usual pale skin. 

“I'm not.. I can't. Excuse me.” Sergio pushed past Iker, in a rude not excused kind of way, but he didn't care at this point of time. 

He just needed to get out, he needed air desperately. This was all too much for him, the thought of carrying the secret of the affair was a heavy burden to Sergio's shoulders — he was capable of so much, but not this. 

He couldn't do it. Not even for Iker.


End file.
